


...but it's better if you do !

by empaten02



Series: let's stay lost in time [3]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 1960s Music, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - 1960s, Consensual Sex, Developing Relationship, Drinking, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Some Humor, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empaten02/pseuds/empaten02
Summary: “So, you and Yves”. Jeno tries once they’re walking to another room, blinking eyes after seeing the dining room with a table longer than his life expectations.“Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off… but it’s better if you do!”.“Good”. Jeno’s voice comes out squeaky, laughing when Seulgi raises an eyebrow and chuckles too.—Or where Jeno follows his sister's dreams into the shiny floor of a club, drawn by a fever he can't sweat out in the form of a dazzling smile and heavier eyes fixed on him.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Series: let's stay lost in time [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2014558
Comments: 5
Kudos: 60





	...but it's better if you do !

**Author's Note:**

> all references to 'a fever you can't sweat out' by p!atd
> 
> here's the [playlist](https://twitter.com/jen26do/status/1340446663480111104) if you're curious, all songs except one are linked to the scenes of the story.

“Now I’m of consenting age to be forgiving you in a cabaret”.

Just with Yves’ words he swallows down a peach and lime daiquiri, timidly looking over the shiny space from his stool seat. Carpeted red walls and glasses reflecting under the stage lights, Frank Sinatra’s optimist voice saying he has the world on a string and sitting on a rainbow, expensive cars parked outside are a list of things Jeno can’t wrap his head around.

Dazzling black counter smoothing under Jeno’s fingertips, jittery and impatient waiting for the show to start. He might be twenty-five, yet clubs give him an uncomfortable stickiness sweating out his worries, not ready to see his sister dancing for greedy and rich pocket’s eyes.

She’s a dancer, a born performer since she used to make the poor convent sister uptight with her mess performances not suitable for the cold church walls. Also, they’re not actual siblings, and Jeno is younger yet very protective of the now grown child with white bows on her ponytails swinging against collegium tightened uniforms.

It’s too fancy for them, luxurious, expensive and untouchable, guiltily gulping down the nice drink burning his throat. On the house said Johnny, the bartender with a sly smile as he knows all of Jeno’s secrets. And god, Jeno might feel he’s paying in naivety for it, Johnny clearly enjoying his lost glances and nervous scanning of the building accompanied with his foot bouncing where it is thrown over his crossed leg.

Jeno stays still when lights are dimmer and hound dog behaviour, as Elvis Presley’s song playing from the bands’ professional hands, kicks in, glaring at every patrol sipping alcohol and enjoying the show.

Seeing Yves shedding her skin on stage is what holds him back from smiling, not too fond of the sparkly gold outfit revealing maybe an extra ounce of skin, considering it fits the extravagant atmosphere and drive of the club. Jeno knows Yves is supposed to be taken by her hips by the male lead dancer, to twirl and spin her in the room, albeit it’s his sister exposed right on stage, tensing him up.

He feels Elvis’ words are currently mocking him, a hound dog crying all the time, that never caught a rabbit and he’s right, Jeno is always too afraid to risk, too afraid to be seen. Civil rights being spoken on the tips of everyone’s tongues, yeah, they kind of feel like a joke to Jeno, who still fatigues to see avoided grimaces and prejudices; if there’s something drawing him in the decently comfortable stool– as much as a round butt fit space can be when you’re nervous and worried, Jeno has been witnessing diversity in the red walls since he step inside the New York located club.

The crazy tones weaken after a first jazzed performance, nodding at Johnny who’s staring at the way Jeno has been lingering around the drink, made a few sips too busy in his head to mind how long he takes to finish it. He shivers in his balck pea coat when the door opens, eyes following the young couple all dolled up for the night.

The lady with a pink swinging knee-high dress of a lace sparkling as soon as it meets the club’s light sure is a treat for sore eyes, mildly moving her dark chocolate hair behind revealed bare shoulders, courtesy of who must be her companion removing the long coat for her. And as garish the woman is, Jeno’s eyes must be fleeing his will to keep staring at him.

A man in his late twenties, peeling off clothes layers to a silk button-down meeting the sudden burn Jeno feels around his neck. So much for being discreet, he thinks. The man’s hair is worn to the side, in a fridge settled with hair spray of a lighter brown than his Mrs. 

They walk around as they sense the place well, they definitely do, greeting notable looking patrons and also Johnny with one beaming smile leaving Jeno to blink absently. If being a man attracted to men was something he’s grown to words of high distaste and sinful acts, then why does he stealthily glances at the man with a pounding heart in his lungs?

Jeno is sure the club has gotten more dazzling, reflecting to the walls and tables back to this one man too marvelous for words. His mind is searching for phrases and praises enough to give him a reason to peacefully look away, still his eyes are greedy tonight, following him until he takes a seat at a table where Jeno can see from his peripheral vision.

He does turn, attracted like a magnet, a curse, someone he’ll never find explanations for his actions and when the man stares back at him with his deep eyes Jeno feels burnt, skittishly turning back to Johnny showing a catlike smile Jeno does not enjoy a bit in his churning.

He’s not sure if it’s seconds or minutes passing, at one point he dares to peak and that gorgeous man is there, still glancing back confidently. He’s curious, of what that stare means, assumption of nothing too scandalous when he arrives with such a beautiful lady that makes him look as if he’s at her side rather than the opposite. A woman moving confidently, eyeing the stage and band playing Bing Crosby appealing her pearled ears.

Jeno has his fair share of experiences to glances like these, yet guilty of a deeply wrong dirt part of him whenever he frees from those rigid convent walls raising him into who he is today, holding him back after every seeking for closeness. Hold him back to stare at someone with the same purpose of this particularly audacious man. 

Fairly, it’s not a regular occurrence if you don’t step in the right places, only people like Jeno know how draining is the weight of following a prohibited pleasure to most. He sips his drink, face rescuing behind it, eyes seeping the man’s. There’s some of the light-headed drink at the corner of his lips, to which Jeno reaches with his tongue, slower than intended. He receives a wink from the man, pinking the tip of his cheeks, glancing down at the ice melting inside the glass into moisture stuck in his palms.

It must be a game for this man, and Jeno fears everything for a moment, glancing one last time before he protects by facing the counter, not as safe with Johnny’s knowing stare. 

“Are you aware this is a safe place for you?”.

Jeno doesn’t have the time to question him, turning to a mellow and deep voice greeting Johnny, making his fingers twitchy and about to flee to the first rows of tables where Yves should start performing soon again.

“The usual”.

It’s the last thing he says before feeling a body next to his stool, forearm settling an open palm for the man’s mature yet delicate features to stare down at Jeno. He feels exposed, nervously glancing up, meeting that cursed smile luring Jeno in.

Johnny looks at them from his white dress shirt and black hair swept back, sliding a drink for Jaemin and another one for Jeno, furrow between his eyebrows when he’s not even done with the first one. The drink push seems of pity and Jeno wonders he must look so out of place around a highfalutin building.

“This is Jeno, you’ll see each other often”.

Jaemin breaks his smile just to shape lips in a small “Oh” sound. He stretches his hand, as much as he can in the already narrow space between them and Jeno tastes of electricity when their hands meet, unsure if it’s the alcohol or breaking that safe bubble only made of staring into that greeting.

“Jaemin Na, regular patron in here”. Jaemin takes a sip, long fingers curling on the glass taking a sip of one of the bitters, bronze liquid color disappearing in a swallow. His side profile is unfair, and Jeno in that brief moment of silence is torturing his bottom lip without noticing.

“You must have a reason to be here, you don’t seem too keen of these walls”.

“I think Jeno is in the right place. See that skirt over there?”. Johnny tells and Jeno almost wants to glare at him, leaving it to unsaid protectiveness over himself and Yves considering the bartender has been nice to both of them. “She’s Jeno’s sister”.

“Oh, she caught Seulgi’s attention, said she’s a good dancer for being new”.

“Did she?”. 

“You know her”. 

Jaemin’s smile is cunning and Johnny’s tone has a hidden amusement Jeno can’t grasp, looking between the men’s banter with a narrow eye, hopefully they’re not implying anything hurtful for his sister, clicking his tongue after a drink sip.

“It’s her first day here”. Jeno slides his index finger to the flat surface of embedded sparkles. “Trying to be a supportive brother”.

And just like that his first encounter with Jaemin Na is spent, and he does catch him a couple of times more than necessary, no wonder when he introduced himself as a regular patron. On the other hand, he doesn’t see Seulgi as much, spots his companion smoking in the lounge room and sipping kind of liquors Jeno dislikes, slowly getting used to the sight.

Yves is happy, and it’s all that matters, more than the surprisingly nice paycheck she earns. She’s sewing her dress for tomorrow night’s show, sitting on the floor and back pressed at a brown rough couch in their shared Manhattan apartment, not too functional for two but it works, sweet smile as she listens to Jeno humming to Doris Day. They have it as a habit to sing together, and it doesn’t take long for her busy hands to join him with wash hoarded plates.

Jeno loves his sister’s voice, since he can remember from their sore back standing for too long singing choir to mess songs, under the pleased nun’s stare, still able to breath the praying space’s humidity under grey skies where Jeno thought God was asleep up a cloud, feels humidity even now he’s older and independent in a life completely distant and detached from their past. It leaves a mark, a childhood like theirs, in the smallest details and conceptions of a mind can have.

No parents, loud small shoes ticking the stone walls of the boarding school they grew up in, sneaking at night and giggling at Yves' ghostly pajama vest under night’s shadows to end up scolded by the nuns woken up by their youthful antics, pinching their ears and bringing them back to bed.

Singing together since the day a mint green box shaped radio played music in the kids’ playroom, nourished a love for the rusty object and then stepped messily into dances with their short scraped legs, finding peace in a world where they had to grow up quickly, meetup reality’s sad expectations.

“Not for me, all that stuff  
The dreams that ruin your sleep

Not for me, had enough  
Love is one thing you can keep” 

She chuckles after harmonizing with him, glancing up at Jeno’s tired eyes after hours spent in the office. He’s an apprentice at a law firm, you can say he’s fresh out of college and thrown into cannibals slowly eating his draining brain, somehow not as stressful as being a law student.

“Joining me tonight?”.

On Saturdays Jeno leaves the club’s sparkle at ungodly hours with a lighter heart, finding soon how tiring it is to be supportive of Yves and show up at work in the morning without feeling trumpets, drums and piano sounds pounding in his eardrums. Also Jeno knows how Johnny and Doyoung– one of the voices of the band playing at the club who grew fond of both of them, take care of the girl well.

And Seulgi, how can Jeno forget about her, recently bonding with Yves so much. She comes almost every night to the club, with her pink eye-catching Ford Mustang flaunted in the parking spots outside the sober club facade. Jeno can’t understand why Dream Club’s sign doesn’t represent the same luxure that is inside, yet is known by insiders intentionally hiding in the fun only hosted by the night, being an empty playground once grazed by daylights.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world”. Jeno smiles back, still smelling of work and the chimney collected in his boss’ ashtray, Taeil Moon. Beware of his easy-going looks, the man makes him work nonstop and is quite passionate about his job, inspiring Jeno to follow a similar work ethic.

“Hmm”. Yves pursues her lips pleased, sewing her dress after looking outside their wide window in the small living room, singing again. Her sweet sister would never give her soul and heart to a man, except for plucking one bit to Jeno who wants nothing from her but the feeling of family engraved for years. Being together after all those years is the only security they have.

“Hansoms through the park, kisses in the dark  
All the promises made faithfully

Put 'em in a box, tie 'em with a ribbon  
Throw 'em in the deep blue sea”

Dream club tonight is frenetic, and Jeno spots a tired eye from the bar direction, sweating a ‘Hello’ before Jeno gets pulled by the wrist into the changing rooms. None of the dancers seem to care about his presence, someone busy stretching their mouths to apply lipstick in front of the mirror, some chatting with closer patrons as they get their hair curled. 

Jeno is surprised to spot Seulgi, vanity case in hand and sweet eyes when she spots Yves inside the narrow room, smoothing down her lilac dress with one palm. She looks beautiful as the first time he saw her; this time her hair is up, Audrey Hepburn popular style in Breakfast at Tiffany, same rounded bun adorning her thin features and noticeable diamonds sparkling at her earlobes.

The two girls meet their cheeks in greeting, Seulgi leaving a chair for Jeno to sit. She settles behind Yves’ chair, brush and hair spray in hand to start operating. Jeno is fascinated by the slim expert fingers moving to his sister’s brown hair, fixing curlers on her head at the same pattern Jeno’s head falls in his palm watching them chatting.

They seem close, and Jeno wants to gasp when he notices the slight lingering of Seulgi’s fingers down his sister’s jaw and neck, not sure how to parse it when Yves is obviously blushing at the attention. 

Here’s the thing about her; she’s a whole lot braver than Jeno. More blatant in safe spaces, confident with who she is and maybe leaving aside their childhood friendship and most of their lives spent the same way, Jeno finds himself following her, aiming for that courage he surely does not possess. And maybe, there’s a part of Jeno bewildered and suspicious now, if Seulgi and Jaemin are just a misplaced couple for third’s convenience. 

“What do you think, Jeno?”. Seulgi turns to him, lips curling in a dark pink shade resting her hands on Yves’ shoulders.

“You look good”. He fixes his slumped position, two fingers pulling his shirt; it’s steamy in the small space heating up with hair dryers, female laughs and talks Jeno's ears follow from time to time. He likes it, feels friendly, and lovely to seep in.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Jaemin and Johnny talked a lot about you”.

“Did they?”. Jeno raises an eyebrow, specifically his encounters with Jaemin can be reduced to a nod and a polite smile. The only time they properly talked was the very first day he stepped inside Dream walls.

“Yes, I had no idea you work for Mr. Moon, he’s a cool head”. Seulgi pinches Jeno’s cheek between her cured nails, gaining a small cackle from Yves at his flustered state. “You too, young and handsome Jeno”.

Jeno is timid, knows both Seulgi and Jaemin are about five years older, sure he must look like a baby to them, all jittery limbs around a club such as this one. He’s not used to the flashy nightlife, always followed the rules to be a good society boy. Yves was the same, until one day she shaped into the gorgeous, brave woman following her dreams such as being a dancer and starting from here, hopefully she will be noticed one day by a special client to join bigger shows, bigger crowds. 

“Only young, not too sure about handsome”.

Seulgi rolls her eyes in a scoff, head shaking as Jeno stands up. “Kiss off, I’ll see you later babe”. She blows a flying kiss to Yves, Jeno widens his eyes for a second at her biting the insides of his cheeks to avoid smiling, waving goodbye and wishing good luck to all the dancers getting ready.

Midnight Dancing is the name of the band currently playing at Dream club. They’re a novelty passing by under bright stage lights, happy and enthusiast boys warming the crown in the already glitzy room.

Mesmerizing is for Jeno, how versatile all the members are, able to play every instrument the band offers and all gifted with amazing vocals, alternating lead singer for the night, depending who suits the song choices better. Tonight it seems to be Donghyuck, fixing the microphone to his height before the show, club still filled with chatters and glasses clinking in a pleasant ripple. 

Johnny’s liquor shelf is colorful tonight with extra lights gleaming under the counter, red stools in line and emptier than usual when everyone seems to have found a table to watch the show closely, Jeno stealing his very own stool with a happy greeting. Johnny looks even more distraught after the minutes Jeno spent inside dressing rooms and female voices, coming back to life in the room looking slightly colder, still missing the band’s playing to warm up the space.

All red and black, everything seems to be sucked in darkness and at the same pace everything explodes in color, passionate red spotted even in Johnny’s suspenders, according to the whole room. 

“Rough night?”. 

Johnny just huffs some air out his mouth, sliding a quick whiskey sour. The taller and friendly man is probably the only one Jeno has remotely got closer to, enough to chat from time to time when he’s not too busy. Jeno has a feeling Johnny likes to be entertained before placing all the drinks into trays for waiters to dish out around tables. It’s not like he ever leaves the counter, Jeno is not sure he remembers what he looks like down his middle, not that it is necessary.

There’s someone else Jeno slightly bonded with, now with an arm slung around his shoulders, thin face and full small lips in a gummy smile. Doyoung Kim, Midnight Dancing member, claimed Jeno is his new safeguarded to everyone he meets in the club since that one time he stopped with them after a show for a drink, Johnny extremely kind to keep the bar open for them and a few other staff members toasting a successful night.

Mark as well, joining them with a wink at Johnny and a firm pat at Jeno’s back, Marlboro between his fingers. Jeno is not blind, and his liking for men getting stronger with some liquid courage does make him stare at the intense eyes and shaped cheekbones breaking into a smile at something Jeno was clearly not listening to, letting him be squeezed by Doyoung.

“What are you guys singing tonight?”. 

“Something fun”. Mark gives him his cheekbones again.

“You’ll like it”. Doyoung opens his eyes wide in gratitude at Johnny giving him a drink, tip of his fingers cold from the ice when Jeno grabs it for him. Jeno worked for a few months in a bar during his college days, and understands well how sore fingers can get at the end of the night. It was not as high class and busy as this one, and he couldn’t really touch alcohol back then, making coffees and virgin drinks. Basically apple juices, as his boss used to say.

“Getting started without me?”.

Jeno tenses, reminding to not be ridiculous and get himself together. Out of all people there’s one deeply mellow sound shaking his constricted heart, giving a fever he can’t sweat out. And how absurd it is someone he barely met more than once, turning to meet Jaemin’s alluring face smiling down at them– at him.

“We would never, Na. Our savior, our inspiration”. Obviously kids Donghyuck, getting in the picture with his glossy heart shaped lips and sunkissed skin against an emerald shirt. He looks good tonight, drumsticks in hand he throws for Mark’s hands to catch, patting Jaemin’s butt and that careless move merely shocks Jeno, bewildered by such a gesture in public for a boy who grew in a church.

“As if this wasn’t of inspiration for your lyrics, liar”. 

Jeno’s jaw might drop, clears his throat because Jaemin might have been quieter this time, still Jeno heard. He thought his assumption about him and Seulgi were hazardous, maybe he wasn’t so wrong. And Jaemin must really trust everyone around him, taking a risk with Jeno around– a stranger, noticing his commotion.

Doyoung grazes his earlobe leaning his lips in, and Jeno would flinch if no one was really reacting to it as this is a normal occurrence, warm lime breath whispering to him.

“As Johnny told you, you’re safe here. We all are”.

Jeno is lost. Not really, he gets the implication, still too unbelievable to react in any proper way when Doyoung confirms it by pecking his cheek so lightly. He does feel safe, around eyes not surprised, a gentle smile from the boys and one falling of Jaemin, eyes settled on him when he turns around.

“I- what. Are you serious?”. Jeno blushes at the small nod of Johnny, chuckling at his shock. “How do you know?”.

“Sweetie”. Starts Donghyuck with his mocking nasal voice, wincing after Mark slaps his arm in a strong pop, shutting him up.

“I had a feeling”. Johnny starts, stealing a glance at Jaemin behind him. “Then Yves kind of accidentally told us about herself one night after playing and when she noticed how cool we are she also mentioned you, and then I immediately knew”.

“She said nothing”. 

“Oh I know”. Johnny laughs, cleaning a few glasses to prepare more drinks for table eight. “I promised her we would tell you ourselves. Don’t be mad, she really said nothing that someone who is not us would catch”.

“I’m not”. Jeno shakes his head, smiling too at the absurdity of it. 

“Explore yourself babe, you can”. Donghyuck’s smile this time is sincere.

And Jeno does know he can’t change who he is, as much as he tried in the past to conform to what society deems normal it keeps calling him, like a distant merman. There always comes a time where he seeks touch, to be kissed and get lost in some burning love for a man, the only love he craves and makes him sick and wrong at the same instant.

He’s working to avoid that atrocious hangover after drinking his deepest wants, and finding an actual lover that will stay is tiring, getting out of his shell to find someone is too frightening. He lives in the shadows and fear of being noticed, of getting exposed. 

Jeno envies and admires Yves, who stays strongly in her pride, hides to save herself but when allowed she never restrain to love who she wants, to join the hold of a woman’s arms, and adores and there’s fondness when she thinks of past lovers. Jeno can’t, suffers in torment, in shame. He could avoid it, could have been more rational and let it go, yet he doesn’t want to let go, when he touches what is dangerous he lures in. Swims in the attention and burning passion, knowing it’s what he wants during that real rational fraction. In reality, if Jeno had a cooler mindset, he’d understand the sick churning he feels after is not rational, dipped in shame of wrong morals inculcated since he was too young around stoned walls and pavements, choirs and innocent children giggles.

Jeno is trying to rebuild a prouder self, one that can wake up in the morning and not regret getting lost in the night with a man, maybe open his eyes next to a man and not wanting to rip every single hair out of his head. It is new, how warm his stomach and heart sits on the stool, the small hug Doyoung gives him before disappearing behind the stage.

“Hey”. Jeno says still breathless at the news. Jaemin is not so different from him and the glances they shared the first night they met maybe meant more than what Jeno considered. 

“Hi beautiful”.

Jaemin clinks their glasses and moves where Seulgi is, Jeno turning into the stool following his movements with a blush creeping his cheeks. He hears Johnny laugh, ignoring it when all he feels is the echo of that praise slipping out of Jaemin’s mouth. 

Gladly Jeno spots Yves getting on stage in a lovely striped dress, this time less audacity in the fabrics and her short heels red shoes shine against the wooden slick floor. He watches Donghyuck behind the microphone greeting patrons, Mark turning his drumsticks and softly moving the plates to a small rhythm, Doyoung testing the tuned guitar and Chenle, the youngster of only twenty-one years old fixing his moptop standing behind the piano.

Jeno smiles hearing the familiar drum and guitar start, Jailhouse Rock making his feet match the rhythm, Yves wearing her stage smile and raised expressive eyebrows, the familiar male lead dancer joining her with the movements.

Here is the missing sparkle, Donghyuck’s scratched voice to match Elvis’ one amplified by the microphone, Chenle really enjoying himself moving the crazy moptop to the music and an excited cheering fills the space with hands clapping along and alcohol consumed inside glasses.

“The warden threw a party in the county jail  
The prison band was there, and they began to wail

The band was jumpin', and the joint began to swing  
You should've heard them knocked out jailbirds sing”

Jeno gets the fake jail bars behind the band now, fun opening number to which many people move from their seats, Yves’ longer dress moving to the fast and exciting rock and roll moves, smiling so widely and enjoying herself in difficult tricks and jumps impressive even to Jeno’s eyes who’s used to her performances, Johnny whistling from behind him.

Club fun-filled and Jeno can’t help his proud smile breaking in his concentrated face in a corner and unconsciously moving his shoulders too, drawn by the fun dance piece unfolding on stage.

His eyes trail to Seulgi, mouthing the lyrics with a martini in hand. Jaemin has a fixed smile made of pressed lips, his head bouncing slightly to the music. He has a light blue suit on, a few buttons open and devoid of a tie. It’s a club, Jeno gets it, somehow biting his lip at the untidy look, reckless for a man of supposed class like Jaemin. He figures he knows nothing about him, not after tonight’s barstool confessions.

The next verse has Jaemin locking eyes with him, Jeno busted staring, a kid with fingers dipped in a marmalade jar. He truly doesn’t have the desire to turn away, not when tonight is particularly interesting. Jeno looks and smiles back at the man’s delightful grin.

“ Number forty-seven said to number three  
You're the cutest jailbird I ever did see “

Jaemin sings to him, funny when his arm is linked with Seulgi, and Jeno raises an eyebrow singing the next part back.

“ I sure would be delighted with your company  
Come on and do the Jailhouse Rock with me “

There’s a dance break where everybody stands up encouraged by Donghyuck’s voice at the microphone, Jaemin approaching him and Jeno wants to flee, if it wasn’t for the pretty smile Yves gives him when he looks briefly lost at her, winking before smiling back at her dancer, legs in a split and back pressed against the man’s back in a cartwheel.

Jeno knows the song is about to end, there’s no chance for Jaemin to ask him to dance, and gladly even if he did no one will mind inside this club. He stands next to him instead, shoulders pressed too friendly for Jeno’s liking, somehow not able to try and detach from the closeness. He smells of good cologne mixed with sweat on his neck, an attractive smell filling his nostril, eyes trying to spare glances down Jaemin’s chest, where exposed skin sparkles with the steaminess forming after such a burning performance.

They’re clapping when it ends, Mark appealing guests with his nice talking voice Jeno tries to listen without panicking at Jaemin’s tequila puffs grazing his skin, pressing his back at the end of the counter where he is sure Johnny will make fun of him later.

Jaemin is even more handsome up close. His eyes are wide, tender when tired of winking cunning and give crafty stares. There’s an impressive set of white teeth between his stretched lips, and dark brown hair sticking at his nape where it’s hotter.

“She is good, isn’t she?”.

“Yves? She’s amazing”.

Jeno is overjoyed at the amazing performance, sure if she didn’t yet now Yves surely has most of the crowd’s hearts. It’s her talent to steal attention in the form of precise and energetic moves, leading everyone to dance and leave the club with a light heart and bubbly steps home.

His face falls apprehensive realizing he does have to entertain and be close in Jaemin’s space, Doyoung stealing the microphone and spotlight as Chenle whistles the melody pressing keys on the piano with Mark’s drum following a fast nervous beat as Jeno’s heart. Jaemin smiles, recognizing Van Dyke’s lighthearted lyrics. Jeno would like to steal a scoff and a glare, sure the band is choosing the right songs to kid him, haunting his thoughts and the irony of the situation.

A gentle melody, curling tonight’s guests lips and getting back at their own chatter, still perk with an unbusy ear to soak up Doyoung’s silky voice. Saturday’s attires shining differently with colors at the lounge are eye-catching, pretty hair and high-priced jewelry tangled on bodies covered with good fabrics.

“Put on a happy face” sings Doyoung, dramatically moving with the microphone into the limited space he has, side profile lightened by the stage.

“Take off the gloomy mask of tragedy, it’s not your style!”. He recites quite loudly towards one face in the public, making Jaemin laugh, low and honey dripping out his mouth. Jeno allows a smile too, infected by threats of happiness hidden― or maybe not so, in the lyrics.

Jaemin’s eyes are squeezed in elation, turning to Jeno and his heart stops at two fingers lifting up his chin, lashes covering pure warmth and Jeno’s mouth slightly agape at the gesture, shivering down his nerves.

“Wipe off that full of doubt look”. Says Jaemin seriously as Doyoung sings the verse, stare lingering for longer.

“These songs are mocking me”. Admits Jeno, an aggrieved frown Jaemin smooths down with a thumb on his cheekbone, clicking his tongue very pleased. Jeno is mesmerized, by the touches and a world so different he’s suddenly fallen in.

“Sure they are, doll”.

And when the song finishes and Jaemin has to entertain someone recognizing him and roping him into conversation, he gives Jeno an apologetic smile as it gets too long and to which he simply nods, sighing loudly once he finds a spot on the stool and asks a cackling Johnny a strong drink.

“Damn, that bad?”.

Jeno wasn’t expecting the sudden call from Taeil’s secretary, Sicheng, a sweet looking chinese boy with a tongue on fire when he speaks poorly about his boss drinking habits― right in front of him and not caring a single bit, vices ruining the short good looking man who looks spent on the couch when Jeno enters the office around ten in the morning.

It’s a dark room, from the small window never opened enough to allow light and air moving dust on the tall bookcases behind his desk and leather couch. Thick lines of dark colored books, papers thrown all over the wooden surface. A dim lamp and cigarettes, endless cigarettes quenched on a mountain of a bronzed plate ashtray. The smoke smell is mixed with Taeil’s own fragrance, creating a very odd scent quite pleasing unless it sticks to Jeno’s skin in the form of plain smoke when he gets out of it.

Taeil has dark hair falling at the sides of his half closed eyes, scotch glass half finished and disruption in the form of eye circles, groaning when he sees Jeno escorted by Sicheng who grimaces at him seeing the familiar scenario.

“Thank god you’re here, I stayed up all night”.

“And drank all night”. Sicheng whispers prickly to Jeno before rolling his eyes and leaving.

Taeil throws a hand almost pushing the glass off his desk, urging Jeno to take a seat. The man over thirty has a youthful look when he’s at his best― which is a rare occasion to spot from Jeno’s view, used to disheveled and somehow still good looking Taeil Moon, dignified lawyer recognized in the whole of Manhattan. Everyone he’s met is impressed when Jeno mentions his job, relieved to know everyone thinks he’s in good hands and will lead his own studio just fine one day if he learns diligently from the man.

“So”. Taeil claps his hands, moving messily some papers and Jeno tries to avoid a grimace, hands itching to organize all of them. “I heard you know the Na’s, at least what remains of them. That hunk of Jaemin”.

Jeno’s hands are folded in his lap, baffled and pressing lips together before nodding with uncertainty, gaining a rather loud scoff from Taeil.

“Lee, there’s nothing wrong admitting a man’s good looks, I promise it won’t crumble your masculinity”.

Jeno figures there’s no space to be surprised anymore, his night was already a daydream made of said hunk stroking his cheek and singing suggestive lyrics to him. He’s careful. Unlike straight men he doesn’t have the privilege, or so he thinks, to joke around a man’s looks; not when he’d stare at those features seriously if interesting enough.

“I uhm- what do you mean by what remains of them?”.

“I helped them through their divorce, they’re still all chummy, I hope it served its use”.

Taeil takes a big gulp of scotch, hissing a moment. “I fucking hate this job”.

Jeno bites his cheeks, containing all his reactions, that’s still his boss and he’s supposed to impress and work well for him so Taeil will recommend Jeno’s hard work in the future. Linking to bigger and affirmed minds, is the only way to become big in times like these.

“Mr. Moon, is there anything bothering you? It seemed urgent on the phone”.

“Call me Taeil, please, I sound like that hag of my father. You’d hate him”.

“Sure”. Jeno this time can’t help the hopeless brief lift of his eyebrows looking down at a stack of papers, a dreadful ton of work and his free day dejected in the dark office room. He hopes Taeil will at least let him go earlier or that his paycheck will be worth the time. He’s not really allowed to complain, nor his bond with the man is strong enough to freely express his opinion when asked. “Should we get started?”.

When Jeno is free of responsibilities and tiptoeing around a drunk man having an early mid life crisis, he is sweating meeting outside’s fresher air, loosening his tie in the process of walking through wide sidewalks’ straight lines and cars passing in the slow busy street next to him.

It’s a bit later than five when he checks his wristwatch, too late to do anything useful with Yves such as helping her sewing clothes or finding time to clean properly his bedroom, or just lay with her on the couch and their radio, deciding he can walk slower and further before taking a taxi home.

And as if Manhattan is pocket sized, Jaemin spots him, smiling widely and approaching Jeno who was walking towards the opposite direction. He’s wearing a white suit, colorful tie and jacket open. Jeno is sure he’s not the only one that would stop and stare, despite Jaemin’s looks being a lot sober than his club ones, he’s still merely handsome. Not in his looks alone, he walks confidently, as he has everything in the palms of his hands and according to Taeil, he really does.

Jaemin Na is an elite businessman, him and Seulgi leading their lives quite expensively, in the wealthy playgrounds made of mansions and clean cut grass. No wonder they can afford a lawyer like Taeil Moon, who lives just fine if you go through his disheveled office looks and life lead simply. 

Jeno’s sure Taeil spruce up when he has important clients― all of them, he’s quite pricey. And that’s exactly what keeps him showing up gladly to work, he got lucky. It’s not everyday you sit inside Moon’s studio, not everyday he meets Jaemin alone approaching him.

“City boy”. 

Jaemin is holding a briefcase and once he’s closer, Jeno can spot the tired frown hidden in a lovely smile. This is the first time Jeno sees him under daylight, all details washed out by flashy lights of the club are now discovered in its beauty. He’s handsome, eyes brown and captivating, Jeno stares back.

He ends up walking in the growing evening next to Jaemin, stepping the park path and calmer sounds swept with wind and a peaceful breath, escaping city sounds in a green lung. They don’t talk much, and Jeno doesn’t really feel the need to entertain Jaemin by breaking their silence. Eventually when they find a bench spot to rest their sore backs, Jeno speaks.

“Do you usually work on Sundays?”.

Jaemin glances, licking his chapped bottom lip. “Not really, I got busy with a new asset recently so, duty calls”.

Jeno doesn’t have the time to speak because Jaemin is scoffing a laugh, huffing some air out of his nose. “I’m not asking about you, Taeil tends to have weird requests”.

“Oh he really does”. Jeno chuckles too, stretching painfully by arching his back where he seats, finally all the tension and retrenchment of today is crashing onto his body. Jaemin seems to catch it, for a moment hesitant when he rests a hand at the small of his back.

His fingers move up behind his nape, pressing in circular motions Jeno would enjoy more if he wasn’t tense looking around, afraid to catch weird stares at them. He raises up his shoulders uneasy and Jaemin clears his throat, hand withdrawing.

“Can I rob you for more time?”.

Jeno briefly looks down, lips curling into a small grin. “Where are you taking me?”.

“Somewhere we could relax”.

Somewhere ends up being another club, one less discreet than Dream, one holed up between narrow streets and people disappearing behind the small door. It’s less excessive, wide wooden floors of an lgbt friendly bar Jeno had no idea existed, fault of never looking for one unless he’s really desperate and can’t hold his emotions bottling inside him until he explodes.

There’s a booth and Jeno gulps down his nerves sitting next to Jaemin, in the closed space inhales his perfume and dust mixed with smog from outside, hears his breathing close to him. Jaemin lights up a cigarette, eyes closed to blow white smoke dissolving to the ceiling.

They quickly get a drink in their hands, and watch some ladies dancing together and alone in the lounge space, hands discreetly too touchy if you look at them, eyes lost in each other’s lips not doing much else but dancing to Paul Anka’s ‘Put your head on my shoulder’, short heels of their shoes meeting in close steps made of mellow lyrics.

They’re adorable, all light blonde hair tangled in cured nails and slim fingers, faint giggles of alcoholic happiness and freedom to be who they are, to fall in inches of skin they couldn’t outside the club’s walls. 

Jeno never thought he’d see people so similar to him until he stepped foot into his first gay club. He was in college, encouraged by Yves one weekend she visited him at campus, Jeno constricted into rigidly built morals against the tide of his own needs, pushing them whenever they plead to leave. Jeno almost had a panic attack back then, seeing two men kissing and heavily breathing his heart beat out because he wanted it too, if he allowed to scroll off the convent sisters’ voices for once.

“Like what you see?”.

Jeno has been staring at the two women, now one with her chin hidden in the other’s neck. He shakes his head, cheeks pinking with embarrassment and he doesn’t want to know what Jaemin must have thought his staring means.

“No, I-”. Jeno bounces his knuckles against his knee a few times, taking a sip of Manhattan in his glass. “Those girls are nice… but yeah, not my thing”.

Jeno cringes at his shaky voice, still it is almost easy admitting something as big to Jaemin, who was brave with his carelessness and free to admit it, with a shrug and a pet name for Jeno, before his sister’s performance. Jaemin stared at him with purpose, flirted and winked his way, Jeno doesn’t even know if he’s allowed to do so even if he’s standing next to a man who clearly likes men as much as he does.

Truth is, he tried so many times to be ‘normal’, like all the other college boys who talked about skirts to bring to bed or even when boarding school kids started to grow interest in the white bows running in the garden during bible study breaks. Jeno never cared, never able to look with anything other than appreciation for a girl’s beauty and delicacy; and that was it.

Jaemin stirs the drink moving his wrist, as if the liquid was resting inside the chill glass walls. 

“I understand you Jeno, I might look confident but fear catches you sometimes”. Jeno looks at Jaemin, eyes soft and silently thanking him, for speaking up. “Even to hearts like mine. We do have the privilege of an easy choice, more often than said I was unsure if I did it for love or for safety”.

“What about Seulgi?”. Jeno’s eyes shift for a moment, apologetically. “I’m sorry, Taeil mentioned your divorce”.

He doesn’t have to worry when all Jaemin does is move his hand dismissively.

“I loved her, until our sparkle died somewhere between habits and our longing for other people, we didn’t work as well as we do as friends”. Jaemin smiles against the rim of his glass, teeth clicking before he gulps down another sip of drink. “But that’s a story for another day, doll. Another one!”.

Jaemin raises his hand to the waiter who seems familiar with his presence, head tilting in a funny frown that has Jeno laughing as well, chuckle choked when he feels Jaemin’s hand slide around his thigh, thumb pressing mildly down his skin.

“Order whatever you’d like, it’s on me”. 

Jeno barely nods, too focused on Jaemin’s touch, brain clouded and arms unsure of the way they’re resting at the table, legs twitching together from the attention. Jaemin’s already light grip loosens, damn tongue lingering around his bottom lip as it is searching for something in the small cracks broken with chilly air.

“I have a feeling you’re a bit of a prudish”.

“I grew up in a convent, so maybe I am more than a bit. I’m not very used to men calling me a doll”.

Jaemin’s face changes immediately from the playful mention to a serious one.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all… it’s pretty coming from you”.

Jaemin’s palm is burning on Jeno’s leg, fingers tickling him when they move, and thankful for the thick fabric of his trousers saving him from more shivers. He’s glad when the waiter comes with their drinks, breaking that small haze he was in.

Jaemin is nice, and well mannered under all the tease, leaving him to a very charming man. They talk, Jeno slightly leans in to hear when music and alcohol make it difficult to focus, feeling electric through Jaemin’s lips grazing his ear as they speak, hooded in their booth.

And Jeno wants those lips to be everywhere, no shame in his thoughts but a whole lot in his tense body whenever Jaemin is too close, automatically turning on safe mode that has Jeno being careful. The night ends up with him drunk and in a yellow taxi, Jaemin saying his goodbye with a promise Jeno made of visiting him at his house one evening.

On Monday Taeil leaves him alone, no calls from Sicheng. Jeno is still up early, hangover and Paul Anka’s voice echoing in his shivering body, stealing a blanket from the couch he latches around his middle before making coffee. Yves is most likely asleep, she had a small showcase with another band yesterday night, didn’t even bother to ask Jeno to come.

And she knows Jeno likes things he’s familiar with, and Midnight Dancing members plus Johnny a constant present behind the counter are. He gladly accepted Mark’s idea to help him building model airplanes, both finding themselves in a busy talk about it one night after their performance, having Donghyuck rolling his eyes and rob Yves who was just there at one stool listening lost to their shared enthusiasm.

He quietly sits at his chair, sipping bitter coffee and trying to smear sleep out of his half closed lids, staring at the window outside. They still don’t have proper curtains, letting sunlight and street lights at night cast shadows in the living room space. 

They have a consumed kind of parquet with a dark colored simple pattern, mostly covered by a carpet fixed to the floor with the weight of their leather second hand couch and a small coffee table. There’s Yves’ sewing kit next to their radio on a cabinet where they keep a houseplant to bring some color.

None of them care about a tv, reading the news daily when he’s heading to Taeil’s office or if he doesn’t have a chance to, surely the lawyer will complain about politics and update him somewhere in the day.

Jeno’s cup almost falls when out of Yves’ room there’s Seulgi, pink lipstick smudged and untidy hair and clothes wrinkled he’s never seen on the woman. He doesn’t speak, just stares and gapes until the woman with pink cheeks points towards their bathroom direction, and Jeno nods the way.

Useless to say he speeds his feet inside his sister’s bedroom, whispering― shouting her name until he receives an annoyed groan and a shifting of bedsheets. Jeno’s excitement doesn’t allow logic, one where Yves is still not wearing clothes and he gasps, hand covering his eyes and turning so he won’t see.

“Is that really Seulgi or am I still drunk?”.

“Shut up, instead, where were you all night?”.

She covers till her chin, glaring at Jeno’s way with a scoff when she sees a shocked pajama boy with cold feet running up his ankles.

“Jaemin”.

Yves laughs, her back facing Jeno again, eyes closing tightly. “Sipario”.

After Seulgi is all fixed and still not faltering Jeno’s shock, she convinces him to come to hers and Jaemin’s house, minus Yves’ company who unfortunately has to run errands at the club with Taeyong Lee, owner of Dream club. The man’s probably the kindest and warmest person Jeno has ever met, goodness and safety behind a pair of eyes that had him trust Taeyong for some unknown reason with whatever he says. Also, he’s really good company, Yves is in good hands.

Jeno feels an odd layer on him being in the passenger seat of Seulgi’s pink lacquered car. She’s wearing lace clothes, cat eye sunglasses and a silky foulard covering her messed up hair fold after one night spread on his sister’s sheets. Seulgi confidently drives her way towards Pelham, entering green clean scenery and an expanse of mansions leaving Jeno speechless.

There are different kinds of people, he guesses. Jeno knows for sure Taeil despite his heritage lives in a shabby apartment around his same budget, money in the form of suits and expensive alcohol and office furniture when you get to know him. Then there’s people like the ex Na couple. Jeno is a little unsure to step on the clean white pavement when a cleaning lady takes his coat. 

“Thank you, sweetie”. Seulgi tells the woman, cold fingers holding Jeno’s wrists and moves him to show the entrance and the rooms of their first floor.

There’s a circular region for everything white to shine around the immense glass and curling stairs at one side, a railing of white ceramic Jeno thinks. Everything shines, from the pavements to daylight freely swimming around the room, open arches leading to a guest area made of long couches and a glass coffee table. 

There’s a bar area, and a chandelier up their heads― probably, most definitely more expensive than Jeno’s rent. He’s taken aback. He knew they were rich, just not this much. 

Despite all the elegance and frivolous details of Seulgi’s outfits they’re very humble people, they don’t give off the elitist range Jeno spots just from two rooms. Sure, Jaemin always offers drinks and he does have fun with various fabrics and outfits to flaunt around as well, yet he’s always kind and mellow with Jeno and anyone else, really. Always stops and listens to complaints coming from the bar about money and empathizes, Jeno knows he’s even helped Donghyuck and Mark buying their house.

Jaemin. Jeno wonders if he’s home too or he’s at his company working. He knows Seulgi has her own activity keeping her days busy, whereas it is for their own small circle of wealthy pockets. She designs clothes, and of course Jaemin’s money certainly helped her launch the business, although without her eye and flair lead by an extreme knowledge and passion for fashion she wouldn’t be as popular among the people who can afford her clothes.

“So, you and Yves”. Jeno tries once they’re walking to another room, blinking eyes after seeing the dining room with a table longer than his life expectations. 

“Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off… but it’s better if you do!”.

“Good”. Jeno’s voice comes out squeaky, laughing when Seulgi raises an eyebrow and chuckles too. 

“You two have such an amazing bond. I’m jealous”. She chirps, lovely pout forming before she stops in front of a door and her hand finds place on one of Jeno’s shoulders, squeezing softly.

“And Jaemin?”.

She clicks her tongue in dismissal, hand knocking a few times. “Two ex lovers can never be two siblings. I love Jaemin, but he can’t work as a family, we already tried. Best friends, maybe?”.

There’s a voice, Jaemin saying it’s open and when Jeno looks over the man in a bathrobe and pen in hand he almost runs, not expecting the sight of Jaemin’s broad bare chest so early in the morning. Doesn’t expect a sight like this at all.

Jaemin widens his eyes, hands fixing his locks and smiles widely. “Seulgi, you could have told me you have guests. Hi, handsome”.

Seulgi smirks at Jeno’s blank face before smiling and greeting back, leaving them alone and Jeno almost wants to grab the woman’s hand and keep her close, not sure he can deal with a half naked Jaemin without looking ridiculous.

Jeno’s eyes indeed fall down the smooth slightly tanned skin, silk fabric of the same type as Seulgi’s foulard, slippers through his shoulders before Jaemin brings it back to cover him better. Jeno takes an unintentional deep breath, looking around the studio and everywhere but Jaemin.

“Did Seulgi show you the bedrooms? So I can dress up, sorry I didn’t know you were coming”.

“So did I”. Jeno flushes, glances posing on Jaemin’s face when he leans to speak lower. “I had no idea about Yves and Seulgi, I-''.

“Thank god she did something, it was getting annoying”. 

Jeno is puzzled when Jaemin laughs, one hand sneaking around Jeno’s side and they start walking. So he really was the only one unaware of everything, and how foolish of him. Jeno should have known better, with all the lingering fingers and unnecessary blushes, naive of him to think Yves simply found Seulgi a very charming woman. Which she is, without considering there was reciprocate interest.

They walk up the curled stairs, second floor corridor carpet with a pale purple and brenched rooms at both sides in front of them. Jaemin guides him to one, another futile extra space for a double bed with red sheets and high walls for a simple but wide cabin keeping clothes. There’s also a clothes rack made of both female and male clothes, Jeno figures they’re samples from Seulgi’s line, confirmed by one of the dress covers with her initials.

Jeno sits by Jaemin’s invitation on the smaller rouge daybed, watching the man disappear in the cabin for a few minutes. He comes out with a simple grey turtleneck and light pants, unhelpful for Jeno to blatantly stare where he’s sitting.

He can’t get used to the way Jaemin looks at him, probably at everyone. He’s deep, never shifts his eyes when they meet Jeno’s, makes sure to give a lift of his lips instead. He’s standing and fixing his belt, fingertips moving to secure it and Jeno’s sure he looks like a freak to stare down for too long.

Jaemin with long legs and pants tightening around his thighs, firm and slim muscles keeping it all together. His middle is slightly longer, chest broad and strong shoulders emphasized by what must be very soft cotton hugging his figure, a hint of abs visible from the narrow fit.

There’s nothing unpleasant in Jaemin, from the way he looks to the way he speaks, easily convincing Jeno to do whatever he wants, if he’s honest. Convincing Jeno he wouldn’t feel guilty if one day he woke up under the softest looking bed sheets of the bed at his right.

Jaemin is quiet, wets his lips and walks closer, pressing one knee to the couch and Jeno looks up. There’s a hand stretched open for him, and Jeno hesitates to look questioning.

“Have you seen our music room?”. 

Jeno shakes his head, holding Jaemin's hand to get up, shy to see none of them is letting go and lets himself be guided around the house, around Jaemin’s warm hold.

Time feels right and energizing for Jeno’s reserved sphere, spending the evening just nicely with Jaemin and Seulgi, letting the warm sun of a nice day soak in their skin from their garden table. Jeno’s pale arms find a glow when he turns his wrists and bluish veins are exposed. He never has time to sunbathe in summer, always closed to study and once he is finished and out of college, work became crucial so he could secure a house for him and Yves, of course until she started making her own good money.

His fairy evening ends up again in Jaemin’s music room, listening to his expert hands pressing keys delighting his ears, standing in the ballroom where they host parties. It’s been a while apparently, both tenants too busy with their own business to organize the glitzy events.

When Jaemin presses the last chord of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata Jeno claps, the growing darkness fitting the calm melody still echoing in rumbles around his impressed bones, finding Jaemin even more fascinating after this new discovered passion of his.

He’s beautiful while playing. His mouth curls in concentration, long lashes hitting gently his cheeks and carried away with the notes he plays, lulling Jeno somewhere he’d like to be again, finger tracing the black shiny piano.

“You’re amazing”.

“Come here”. Jaemin holds Jeno’s hand again, shifting on the bench and hips meeting in the small space. Jeno can feel Jaemin breathing this close, warm air crashing on his cheek. His bottom lip gets between his teeth, trying to contain the skittish way his body automatically comes closer to Jaemin. The man has an arm around him and on the keyboard.

He holds Jeno’s wrist, placing his fingers on a simple chord, caged between Jaemin’s arms. It doesn’t sound quite right, yet Jaemin is smiling, shoulder pressing at Jeno’s back.

“I noticed you really like music”. Jaemin’s voice is loud in its gentleness, in the quiet of the dispersive space.

“I do. But I never learned to play”. He turns to his left, nose briefly brushing against Jaemin and he laughs sheepishly, head turning quickly in front of the piano.

“I could teach you if you want to”.

Jaemin’s arms are no longer on the piano but on his hip and upper thigh in a very loose hold, Jeno can’t find the strength to detach, he likes to be close. Jaemin smells good, always does, alluring Jeno, not giving him a reason to deprive himself of how good it is.

“I like hearing you better”. He whispers, a little lost in the hold. It has gotten dark, a lot more than Jeno realized when he was still focusing on the sun outside. It’s still winter, February and its quick darkness swallowing everything, washing out the curves and patterns of the ballroom.

Jaemin hums positively, hand slipping under Jeno’s knee and he throws his leg on top of his. It all happens fast, he gets the unsaid question when he nods and soon Jaemin helps him to his lap, body trembling from the closeness.

Jeno is not used to this, he only got himself to one night stands and escaped after everything was done, never soaked in a body’s attention allowing him to press to someone. Jaemin rests his chin on Jeno’s shoulder, slides his hands on his arms, rests one palm at his chest where Jeno’s heart is beating crazily.

He flutters his lashes, swallows the lump in his throat and the sound of it is loud, his own hand reaching Jaemin’s hand at his chest. 

“Nervous?”.

“As you said, prudish”. 

Jaemin snorts, lips ghosting around his jaw and ear, Jeno doesn’t realize his eyes have been closed all the time. They’re awfully quiet, whispering when no one can interrupt their small bubble, engulfed in warmth and Jeno wants to stay, really does.

Jeno lets a small gasp out when Jaemin presses his lips at his neck, below his ear, a faint and long kiss and his legs twitch, whole body shaking and overwhelmed. He hates how sensitive he is to touch, unsure he will grow used to it if he spends more time around men this intimately, not sure he could get used to Jaemin touching him like this.

Jaemin starts playing again, keeping Jeno on his lap and looking over the keys with his chin still hooked at his shoulder. Jeno relaxes, head tilting against Jaemin’s, repeating himself it is okay to fall for his attention.

And Jeno would like for him to never stop playing, music rumbling in his bones, on Jaemin’s chest when he laughs lightly at Jeno stroking his arm. 

“What?”. Jeno gives him an eye smile too, finding Jaemin’s happy features sweet. His eyes droop, staring at his lips, brushing their noses together again. Jaemin is the same, glancing up at Jeno, breathing in each other's spaces, none of them making the first move to break their proximity.

“Beautiful”. Jaemin whispers to Jeno’s slightly gaping mouth. Jeno traces his fingers around Jaemin’s face, as if to memorize how concrete this is, to maybe have the memory of Jaemin’s skin pattern when he’ll be back home later, albeit he doesn’t exactly want to leave.

Jaemin lets him, moving hands at his hips, fingers under his leg when he invites Jeno to straddle him. It doesn’t make sense to do nothing about their cold lips when they are pressed in more ways than they should together, yet Jeno finds to enjoy tiptoeing around Jaemin. He takes his time, sliding palms at Jaemin’s shoulder blades and arching his back at the same time Jaemin slides his own hands down his legs. Jeno is the first to leave an aroused noise, the older’s fingers fidgety to touch.

“Kiss me”.

Jaemin does. It’s languid, sweet, and painfully delicate the way his tongue immediately finds place inside Jeno’s mouth, a slick sound around a room that has gotten too dark to allow how visibly red Jeno’s face is. 

They have no support for the position they’re in, so Jaemin presses Jeno delicately against the piano, hitting a few sounding uncoordinated keys, legs circling around the older to avoid falling. It’s the worst hold to make out, yet Jeno doesn’t care when he can twirl his tongue around Jaemin’s, shaky breathing falling on his cupid’s bow. 

“I wanted to do this the first time I saw you”. 

Jeno’s eyes fall into a sweeping smile, kissing the line of his jaw.

“I think I could tell”.

Jaemin chuckles, craning his neck for Jeno to have free access, and maybe hands get more cheeky and grab some extra skin behind his legs, pushing Jeno closer who whines. 

“Confident, aren’t we?”. Jeno rocks his hips, Jaemin’s voice a little too hot and low to be unfazed. He always is affected, whatever Jaemin does. “That’s good, doll. I wanted you to understand''.

Jaemin’s breath hitches at one of Jeno’s hips movements, hands around his ass to push him again. They both moan, skin to skin, clothes suddenly narrow and sweating.

“Okay, it’s time to stop”. Jeno breaths out, still meeting Jaemin’s movements with legs clenching around his waist.

“Count to three?”. Answers as breathless Jaemin, whine and head thrown back at Jeno kissing his throat.

Jeno mumbles something but still he helps Jaemin’s hands around his lower back to find a better position, closing the lid of the piano somewhere in their kisses avoiding other loud sounds not coming from them.

“Okay, one”. 

Says Jeno, feeling the edgy piano corner hurting his skin.

“Two”. Jaemin kisses him again, and there’s more seconds between desperate tongues finding pleasure at the roof of their mouths and swallowing sounds. Jeno knows he won’t last long whimpering or asking for more, not when Jaemin is so willingly sucking the tip of his tongue and thrusting their clothed bodies, hot and sweaty in a room all for themselves–

“Three! I said three”. 

Jeno gasps for air, standing abruptly on his feet, limbs melting and catching his breath. Their gazes are heavy, sultry, still not over their little rendez-vous. Jaemin gets up as well and Jeno’s knees wobble, feverish and so, so deeply turned on.

“God”. Jaemin takes his own breath, noticing his trembling slim fingers pressing his knees and Jeno’s glad he’s not the only one affected. 

“I’m not sure God wants to know this”.

Jaemin laughs, probably harder than he would on a normal basis but they’re here and trying to not jump on each other again, so Jeno naturally follows him as well.

“See you tonight?”. Jeno asks, looking back at Seulgi who kindly offered to drive Jeno back home. It’s a twenty minute drive, not too long but still, Jeno doesn’t enjoy bothering anyone. He makes a face of raised eyebrows and still not over what happened earlier. “On another note, maybe it’s better if we don’t”.

“Is it?”. Asks Jaemin, a little disappointed and oh, all Jeno wants is to kiss him.

“No, I mean”. Jeno awkwardly points his thumb towards Seulgi’s pink Mustard. “I’m going. Thank you for ehm, this”.

“Reach safely”. Jaemin lifts the corner of his mouth up.

Jeno feels ridiculous when he’s back home and alone, Yves already at the club to get makeup and hair ready. He can’t do anything without big sighs, twitching and thinking about Jaemin, rubbing his face as hard as he can. He’s trying to erase it for a moment so he can at least shave and fix his hair without hands betraying him with flashes of trembles.

So when he comes a little crazed at Dream familiar red walls, he ungraciously takes place at the barstool and stretches by raising impossibly high his shoulders.

“I wanna get railed, or blitzed, or fucking both”. 

“Wow, good evening”. Johnny laughs, already reaching at his cabinet grabbing strong alcohol. “Can help you with the wasted part, what happened to you?”.

It is comic how when Jeno is about to say something Jaemin and Seulgi arrive, all smiles and greetings. Jeno swallows down his shivers, still fresh, a mad man since he got a taste of the handsome businessman wearing an open button shirt revealing his chest when his jacket is off. Jaemin is still in place when he sees Jeno, mouth slightly agape until he’s distracted by someone approaching him. They’re so obvious in the safe club and for witty eyes like Johnny’s is easy to catch up.

“No way”. Johnny smirks, sliding down a stronger tahitian pearl his way through the counter. “You two fucked”.

It’s more a statement than a question, and Jeno sighs inflating his chest. “Close”.

“Kidding?”. Seeing Johnny surprised is rare, and Jeno’s mildly entertained to be the one shocking him by nodding his head, sip of alcohol down his throat. He needs to drink, there’s no way he’ll survive tonight without it. He’s afraid he’ll be caught dead in this place without it.

The bartender curiously moves his eyes to poor Jaemin, busy with chatty mouths keeping him cornered and sending hidden glances their way, Jeno’s finger falcated around his cocktail glass finishing it in a breath.

Johnny makes a face, mix of having the time of his life and somehow worried about him, twenty five years old and in a feverish crisis. 

“I’ll pay for another one”.

“Shut up, you deserve some good fooling”.

As Johnny prepares another drink, Jeno realizes. How stupid of him, not considering Jaemin is just fooling around and doesn’t take things as seriously as Jeno takes a touch. Maybe he should clear that up. Or he doesn’t care a single bit; to be quite frankly, Jeno wants to be pounded senseless for once and not mind–

“Hey”.

Jeno jerks, a tuneful voice better than the lounge music playing only from Mark’s guitar and Donghyuck’s piano mingled in a gentle sound. He gives almost a pleading look to Johnny, ignoring him easily turning his back to make Jaemin a drink. No need to order one, the bartender knows their taste and their secrets like they’re his.

Jeno hides behind his glass, and Jaemin looks around before slipping his burning fingers on his legs, he must have a thing for it and Jeno too, wanting to slap himself at the easy way it opens to the side for him to rest his hand.

He feels wild, not able to keep it together for a minute, and his face flushes when Johnny’s eyes fall on that intimate hold, making it worse by closing his legs together.

“Thank you”. Singsongs Jaemin, drinking his own gulps. “Is Yves performing soon? Seulgi disappeared in the dressing rooms so I have no idea”.

“Yes, I think they’ll start once the other boys are ready”.

Jaemin smirks at Johnny, a dangerous smile when he knows something no one else does yet. “I think Johnny knows when Doyoung is ready, what do you think babe?”.

Johnny’s stare is insane, hand pointing in their hold direction, pinching the man’s cheek. “I won’t speak so confidently, Na. Treat him well”. He winks at Jeno then, wearing his best smile for a few customers approaching the counter directly.

By the time Doyoung is singing You make me feel so young with his voice a tone higher than Frank Sinatra but still extremely beautiful, Jeno is pressed in the bathroom’s walls, very drunk with alcohol and a bit in love with the way Jaemin kisses him.

They’re breathless, walls cold with the thin fabric of Jeno’s black shirt, body itching with what will be morning roses, spots wet with Jaemin’s tongue. They’re on a hunt for a little more time, for more meandering hands and hips and little gasps and sounds filthy in the small stall.

Jeno is obsessed, hand dipped under Jaemin’s shirt, head bent to kiss and suck his collarbone. Jaemin is playing with his hair, careful to not mess them up too much, aware they’ll be so obvious getting out the bathroom together.

Jeno’s hand bravely traces the man’s bulge against the fabric of his trousers, Jaemin groaning and jerking his hips for his palm. He’s drunk but aware he’d want him like this even if completely sober, this is just a way to be more carefree, feel Jaemin up a little without time and space allowing them to go further.

Jaemin is the first to take Jeno’s naughty hand away, letting it behind his neck instead, kissing his slick lips with the man’s saliva, everything mingled. His cheeks are flushed, hair a bit rough and chest glistening with sweat. He looks handsome. Jeno jolts, gaining another satisfying moan. “Stop, gorgeous”.

“Isn’t this exactly where you’d like me?”. Humours Jeno, a little deranged chuckle leaving in a breath when Jaemin looks at him with all desire, closing his eyes at the hungry lips again up his jaw.

“You’re not exactly praying for love and a lapdance”. Jaemin murmurs in his skin, and Jeno opens one eye, lips threatening to smile.

“Is that what you want? Begging you for a lap dance?”. A tongue stealing Jeno’s words kissing him stunned. 

“And paying in naivety”. Jaemin whispers, tongue darting to lick his bottom lip.  
Jeno this time actually laughs, Jaemin looks lovesick but he knows is just their sex drive mind talking. Jaemin also looks pretty drunk as well, he’s not sure how long they’ve been hiding in the bathroom and if anyone is outside to hear them. It seems quiet, it’s a pretty chill night compared to others, only filled with the usual faces and not many new.

Jeno seems to assess the idea, eyes up in thought. “Mh, we’ll see about your little fantasy”.

“You talk hot tonight, darling”.

They finally get out of the toilet, not after Jeno splashed his face with freezing water and maybe he looks worse, escaping Johnny’s bearing when he sees him, hand dramatically in front of his mouth and Jeno shaking his head. ‘We did nothing you think’, he’s saying, no cursed walls in this club; unless someone else already did it.

He feels like a teen playing hooky, off his little bravado and tatty, deciding to go for a glass of iced water and sober up instead. Jeno enjoys Midnight Dancing music and what remains of Yves’ performance. He’d feel bad for skipping it if someone with a― vaunt worth red dress and long chocolate hair isn’t in the front row cheering.

He sends a smile Seulgi’s way, her moving a hand in dismissal and a wiggle of eyebrows when Jaemin comes closer to her table, winking Jeno’s way. She knows, and honestly, everyone who saw them getting back in the lounge together can easily figure it out.

Washed out needy hips, it was time doubts and fears kicked in again right the next day. Jeno is glad they didn’t do anything else, really, or he’d be ripping all of his hair at this point.

It always calls back, that feeling of not being okay. Jeno feels pride for others, would never judge anyone but when it comes to him is so hard. He finds ashamed of how often he wished he didn’t like men, or could at least have an interest in women enough to get him stuck into a marriage; probably an unhappy one, that’s for sure, and Jeno would turn and seek freedom anyway, maybe it’s better to do it without any linking papers in the way.

He avoids Jaemin. Not him really, he avoids going to the club and apologizes for a whole week to Yves, kissing her on the cheek and wishing good luck. But their apartment is boring, and after two books and work brought home he still avoids― because he’s not completely gone mad to work outside Taeil’s already challenging hours, there’s nothing to do.

The house is clean to the last ounce of dust, his room and Yves’ can’t be any tidier and one day his sister is fixing her face in compact, powder dusting her nose, Jeno watching her from the couch sleepy and bored.

“Where are you going?”.

Yves turns, plump lips shaded pink and her engaging smile that could convince anyone to do anything for her. She’s wearing a cream dress with a white collar, long hair falling loosely at waist length. 

“Seulgi. She has some sketches for a performance dress and she invited me for tea”.

Jeno is not surprised, totally hanging out in Seulgi’s fashion. Also the Na’s mansion looks like a doll house, all white and in tune with Yves’ dress.

“Joining us?”.

He grimaces. He’s supposed to avoid Jaemin, not fall right into the biggest trap of them all. Jeno is not even sure if he’s avoiding the man or delaying his guilt, already swimming in it.

“I’ll pass. Say hi to Seulgi for me”.

Yves takes her bag, teasing glance and a sigh.

“Tired of being Jaemin’s trophy boy all day?”.

“Not as tiring as being Seulgi’s favorite tea party guest”.

“Jeno Lee”. Her smile is dazzling, and Jeno is truly happy for her, whatever relationship she has with the woman. Seems on the serious side, they haven’t talked it out yet. “We’re screwed, aren’t we?”.

“Sooyoung Ha”. A name, an erased past with a suitable american name, baptized Yves. Life has taken so much from them, starting with a name they barely recognize with anymore. At least for her, Jeno was lucky to have a simple one and they always stuck with it. Their identity, on the other hand, is corrupted by conforming and adapting all the time.

Jeno sighs, cheek blocked by his palm. “We are”.

The door is closed with a dull sound, and Jeno recognizes the familiar cheery intro and he wants to scoff, back slumping on the sinking couch. How funny of Cab Calloway singing on the radio, speaking right through Jeno’s uncertain heart.

“Wake and live  
Show the stuff you’re made of

Just follow through  
What are you afraid of”

He scoffs again, rolling his eyes and head meeting the uncomfortable cushion. “I’m not afraid”. He answers justifying himself with the singer’s voice, delirious to a stranger's eye, making sense for forlorn brooding. 

“Come out of your shell, hey fella  
Find your place in the sun”.

Eventually work, or Sicheng’s voice, calls and Jeno gets ready with his work attire and disheartened steps to Moon’s studio. Today there’s a man he’s never seen swinging by Sincheng’s desk, all dimpled smiles and muscles. All made of good looks, and Sicheng seems less annoyed than usual by his company.

Another fancy business man affording Taeil’s budget, most likely, Jeno says his hello’s and finds the door to Taeil, obviously he’s had clients.

He doesn’t look as spent, a renewed man and smoking a cigarette all by himself, eyes lighting up when Jeno enters the room. Jeno is impressed to see an open window, not remembering the studio looked like this in daylight. It’s been a while, and maybe he gets Sicheng’s enthusiasm. 

Jeno is frowny, upset lips when he gets to start some paperwork, sitting across from Taeil. His hand writes automatically, head caught between a wall and Jaemin’s body heat.

“Stop stalling”. Says loudly Taeil in the silent room, shaking Jeno into apologies. Pen in hand, pecked with a voice, minded over his behavior.

“I’m sorry, I’ll work better”.

“Who the fuck was talking about work”. Taeil gets down where he keeps alcohol under his desk and takes two glasses, pouring scotch and pushing it to him. “Saw Na outside, yesterday, was looking for you”.

Jeno doesn’t know what to say, tilting his head and accepting with a small bow the drink, not exactly in the mood to drink his sorrows. They’re not even sorrows, Jeno could easily knock and kiss Jaemin at his door and be over with it. 

“The more you’re perched in this society the less you’re facing how fucked up it is. There’s small cracks opening, if you don’t see them, the better you live”. Taeil suddenly punches the table, making the glasses tremble and Jeno flinches, hand clutching at the pen he’s holding. “You’re no fool, Lee. Everything already sucks, don’t be a victim of tradition”.

“Sorry, I’m trying to fit Jaemin into this but I don’t think I can do it alone”. Jeno takes the glass up, in case the lawyer decides to punch again through his finest furniture.

“Na trusts me and don’t worry, you’re still the only brain capable of working for me, I don’t care who you bring to bed. You’re young and have the luck of fine looks, fool around. Who cares if it’s with a man”.

Jeno faces contorts in a dumbshow, trying to process the information and very wise words, if he’s honest. He’s glad to have an ally, moreover his boss. He ends up smiling kindly at him, and he has to contain his emotion, he can’t foresee his unpredictable― and very nice under all the odds, employer.

With his fancier lacquered shoes, Jeno joins earlier Dream club next to Yves, finding some wilding Midnight Dancing members all gathered at Johnny’s counter, toasting at nothing and everything. Doyoung says being alive is already a reason to toast, hearing Donghyuck calling him an asshole right after it, breaking a laugh.

It’s no novelty seeing Seulgi already there with her range of colorful dresses, tonight of a satin emerald with shorter black heels, hair up and beautiful. But Jaemin next to her, drinking wine down is really a new sight, not expecting to face him so soon after Taeil’s words waking him from the infamous stalling. He tells Yves on the way there about their conversation over papers, making her laugh so much she has tears at the corner of her eyes.

The club is almost empty tonight, not promising a very busy night and he can tell from Johnny’s relaxed features, hands committed to take their friends’ drinks. Jaemin steals a glass, pouring white wine for Jeno and he sits on the barstool next to him, patting the man’s knee.

He raises his glass, small toast for themselves. 

“Busy week?”. Jaemin asks as Jeno’s palm holds his cheek to the counter, elbow already hurting against dark marble.

“You can say that”. It’s not entirely false, Jeno really has been spending many hours inside the dark studio, figures he’s lost eyesight to it. His lies stand in purposely working more to have an excuse and not be tempted going anywhere else he could have met Jaemin.

“Taeil Moon is a demanding man”. Adds in Seulgi, her lovely chuckles filling the air and it already feels better. Already feels like a giddy home made of excessive colors and even crazier staff members. Despite that, Jeno really loves everything related to Dream club, and he’s missed it in the brief time spent home and working.

“You two know him well, don’t you?”. 

“A divorce through Mr. Moon”. Seulgi smacks her red lips together, challenging color to wear as well as she does. “On the papers, amazing. The time spent in his studio, on the other hand… he’s quite a man”.

“We could sing about it”. Jaemin just jokes, albeit the way Seulgi stands excitedly is serious, grabbing Jaemin’s hand.

“Great idea”. She voices happily, turning to Donghyuck. “Love, are the microphones settled?”.

She also takes Jeno’s hand, inviting him to sit down with an amused smile at one of the first row chairs, first time seeing the stage under his nose. It doesn’t shine as much, tonight is calmer though and the band will play later than their normal schedule.

Chenle drags his feet to the stage, hand in the air waiting behind his fixed place at the piano. He looks young in his suits and wilder black moptop, not more than a boy fresh into adulthood. “The same, isn’t it?”.

Seulgi smiles pleased, microphone’s shaft in hand and wine glass in another, tapping two times with her index finger to see if it works, sound amplified for the room to listen. Jaemin scoffs a laugh, taking his own microphone and sends attention to Jeno’s seat, both smiling.

Telling divorce vicissitudes through a song, interesting, and nothing Jeno doesn’t expect from a unique woman like Seulgi. Of course Yves joins him, arms linked and eyes squeezed with happiness when they smile at each other. 

Chenle starts playing a rearranged version of Bob Hope and Shirley Ross’ Thanks for the memory, ironically a piece about a lost couple, reminiscing older days spent together. It fits them, and Jeno curls his lips in anticipation.

Jaemin starts, a sweet look to Seulgi who’s swinging to the lovely tune, light as being suspended on a cloud, watching a world you can’t touch unfolding in a mess and you can’t find a care about.

“Thanks for the memory  
Of sentimental verse

Nothing in my purse  
And chuckles when the preacher said  
For better or for worse”

Seulgi flutters her eyelashes dramatically, looking at the small crowd of upcoming patrons around the stage.

“How lovely it was  
Thanks for the memory

Of Schubert’s serenade  
Little things of jade

And bills we never paid”

Jeno’s mouth agape at how good Seulgi sounds, had no idea she could reach notes so lightly high and easily, ears bubbly in a pleased outcome. He’s glad he knows the song, smiling knowing the upcoming small conversation between Hope and Ross really fits their dynamic.

Jaemin looks down the red silk of Seulgi, eyes pert. “I love your dress”.

“Do you?”.

“It’s pretty!”

“Thanks”. She recites mellow, shoulder raising in a preen look and they all laugh, enjoying the little show they’re pulling off. Chenle is having fun too, moving adept fingers around the piano and smirking down the instrument.

Jaemin opens his palm and Seulgi holds his hand, invested in the recital and Jeno is sure there’s more to it, a hidden fondness of those lyrics actually having a real story caring for a world they once shared and in love. Life is unpredictable, you never know when you’ll lose a sparkle you thought was supposed to last.

“We said goodbye with a highball”. Sings Seulgi and Jaemin gets ready to reply with the lyrics.

“And I got as high as a steeple”.

Seulgi brings her gloved hand in front of red lips, cupping her mouth as if she’s telling a secret but it’s for the microphone and everyone. 

“Did you?”. She asks witty and then there’s a small pause longed by Chenle where Jaemin shrugs his shoulders, again gaining a laugh from everyone.

“But we were intelligent people”. Sighs Jaemin the singed part.

“Not tears, no fuss”. They look at each other with faces familiar over the years, Seulgi raising her glass. 

“Hooray for us”. They harmonize together.

They keep singing to the last part of that adorable song and still sad, whenever Jeno allows his mind to think it’s not so different to what Jeno and Seulgi are. Two ex lovers, still thankful for the time they had together and happy, while it lasted. 

Seulgi sings. “Awfully glad I met you”. Keeping the note long and with a thin vibrato.

“Cheerio and toodle-oo”. Sings back on a slightly lower tone Jaemin, looking at Seulgi with eyes sincere and grateful. “Thank you, so much”. He speaks and Chenle keeps the last note, ending the song, ending that beautiful story.

They clap enthusiastically, Jeno gets up when Jaemin and Seulgi share a hug, a faint muffle of a ‘Darling’ and a buzz of hands. It soon gets replaced with chatter as Midnight Dancing take over for the rest of the night and the two get off the stage, bowing in a mock at actually sincere praises.

The rest of the night at Dream passes in a blink, drinking white wine in blushing lights and some extra loud cheers at the band playing when tonight is particularly dull. Jeno almost likes it better this way, he feels light as a feather with his tipsy state and is less anxious to have Jaemin’s hands linger around his hips and waist as they chat, leaning in his space.

“It was lovely what you two just did there”. Admits Jeno, a bit abandoned, pressed on Jaemin’s chest who’s holding him from behind, fingers tracing the line of his firm abdomen.

“Thank you, doll”. Jaemin pecks his cheek, right in front of Johnny who briefly stops making a drink to look at them and Jeno closes his eyes. This was his safe place since day one, people he barely knew back then were all gladly trying to let him open up in a space where he’s allowed to fall for a stroke and a kiss.

He’s had a drought of someone willingly touching him with care, and Jeno missed Jaemin in more ways during this week. The low and honey voice, his welcoming intelligent persona and always an interesting story to share. Misses seeing and hearing him playing the piano, misses kissing him.

Jaemin is still hugging Jeno when he turns his body in his arms, steading on his shoulders and talks lower because Johnny doesn’t really need to hear them right now.

“Can you play the piano for me?”.

Jaemin looks over where the band is playing, holding Jeno’s hands. “Chenle is busy with it, I can’t baby”.

Jeno carefully looks around, kissing the corner of Jaemin’s mouth and that has the older shocked, still he smiles immediately in a dazzling manner. 

“I was thinking of yours”.

There’s no piano session involved once they reach Jaemin’s mansion, just shaky hands in his room as Jeno slides off his clothes. He’s never done it with someone he cares about, he doesn’t know Jaemin for too long but he’s a friend, more than that when they undertook such a turn in their relationship.

And maybe is Jaemin being the one kissing his neck and picking up Jeno to the bed to let his fluttery heart out in moans and his back arched as soon as it meets the soft mattress.

“Still want this?”. Jeno asks Jaemin, hands cupping his cheeks for a moment to look seriously in his eyes. 

“Of course I do”. Jaemin kisses him, languidly and it’s torture how hot his tongue is in his mouth, snapping slowly in the room with heavier breaths when they’re almost not breathing to kiss more.

Jaemin is fire, and Jeno is everything combustible there is, burning with every touch, almost turned to dust when Jaemin’s fingers play inside him, easily spreading him wider when all Jeno wants is to be closer, to feel him.

There’s a tongue licking a strip of skin right at his Adam's apple, biting and marking a spot. Jeno sighs, hand around Jaemin’s wrist to help him with the curling fingers in his rim. 

“How are you so-”. Jeno whines, hips meeting Jaemin’s fingers. “And it’s not even you yet”.

“Want me?”. Jaemin asks, stroking Jeno’s length, having his whole body squirming in feverish movements. He nods, hand moving its way to Jaemin, working him up until there’s precum slicking him.

And Jeno can’t even think about the ounce of burn when Jaemin thrusts into him, clenching his legs around Jaemin to meet their hips, sweating his arouse and moving hands to Jaemin’s wide space of his shoulders. He’s everything he can ask at the moment, with his tipsy body needing someone close, a wonderful picture of intimacy.

Jeno looks sultry at Jaemin’s gaping mouth, eyes squeezing and brows frowning when he finds just the right way for him, also to Jeno when he reaches a good angle that has his eyes shut, long groans shaking them both.

“Want me to ride you?”.

Jaemin turns on his back, hands immediately reaching for Jeno’s arms, a bad idea when Jeno gets entertained around the older’s nipples. Jaemin helps him sink down again on him, liking the pressure better, feeling Jaemin up inside him just the right way. When his hips ride forward Jaemin’s stomach’s direction, it gets both of them. Jeno tries to reach the same pace and angle, hard to do so when his legs shake with pleasure every time weakening him, Jaemin’s hands helping Jeno down to his chest.

He starts thrusting upward for them, Jeno sinking down each time and there’s some noisy sounds escaping lips busy mapping skin and gaping, finishing into both of them spilling cum between their bodies and inside Jeno, him coming a beat later with Jaemin’s overstimulated thrusts, getting out of him the most beautiful sounds.

Jeno pulls out in a hiss. It’s more than messy when he rolls next to Jaemin, feeling distraught with all the working day hours and night spent mostly out. He looks up at the tall ceiling, exhaling in shaky breaths all the while, one hand clutching at his bare and cooling chest.

“Come here”. Whispers Jaemin, one hand faintly around his hip and it’s so easy for Jeno to roll to the side and hide his face in the man’s neck. Here’s the warmth, so easy to lose and satisfying to keep. Jaemin kisses his nape, hands latching around his middle in fatigued breaths. “Was it nice?”.

“It’s still nice”.

“Hm”. Jaemin sounds cheery when he scratches gently at Jeno’s scalp, him about to fall asleep. And he does, crashing completely into Jaemin’s arms, lulled by warm puffs of air falling in his skin and duvet calling him soon enough to not freeze.

It doesn’t stop, when Jeno is laying on his back in the morning and Jaemin’s lips are peppering kisses on his face, sweet and playful he giggles into it.

It’s still early, the sun is barely showing, Jaemin’s bed is extremely warm and made of soft sheets and Jeno doesn’t have the will to get up. Nor does Jaemin, lost mapping his skin and Jeno traces fingertips on the man’s spine, goosebumps forming under his digits. When Jaemin stops and rests on Jeno’s chest, he kisses the crown of his hair. Breaths are quiet, a room too big for two bodies pressed as close. Jeno wonders how many people were here before him, how many slipped in the morning in a walk of shame. 

“You do this often?”. Whispers Jeno, afraid talking louder will scare one of them. 

Jaemin presses his cheek on Jeno’s chest, lips pecking his skin there. “Not really”.

There’s a curious sound he makes, hand sliding Jaemin’s arm curled around Jeno’s middle.

“I do sleep with people, sometimes”. Jaemin sighs, air steaming in his burning skin. “I just don’t really want them to stay right after it”.

Jeno nods, not sure Jaemin can see him, taking a deep breath. “Do you want me to stay Jaemin?”.

He feels the man’s cheekbones raising up with a smile he can’t really see, dark brown locks spread on his chest. “I’d like that, yeah”.

Jeno is about to relax and maybe sleep when Jaemin speaks again. “But I’m aging old, and a bit wrinkly-”.

“That’s not true”. Jeno laughs, pushing Jaemin playfully off him, just to pin him down and kiss him with one long press of mouths. “And it’s five years, not that much of a difference”.

“Mh I see, you like your men old and rich”. Jaemin winks, kissing down Jeno’s laugh but they’re both smiling and maybe their teeth bump slightly painfully, straddling Jaemin in the while. They’re still tired and bodies sore, getting up in the middle of the night to shower when they were tangled sticky once they woke up from their initial slumber.

Jeno leans in, hands going down from Jaemin’s firm abs up to reach behind his neck, sucking a strip of skin. Jaemin makes a noise and a sigh, taking Jeno’s hips and pushing him pressed to their already close bodies. 

“Since you’re so old, let me take care of you”. Jokes Jeno, and Jaemin wants to laugh but only some real pleased moans come out his throat when Jeno’s mouth trails down his pelvis, eyes closed and lost in morning lust.

Jeno spends his free morning loitering around with Jaemin in his mansion, sitting at the office armchair with a piece of literature stolen from the library. Jaemin has to catch up with some urgent work he can’t allow to delay, still sometimes he looks up and smiles Jeno’s way, pen between his teeth.

He’s reading the same line all over again for a― lost count, time, Jaemin living behind his eyes whenever he closes them. Distracting, so much he finds tiptoeing towards his desk, pulled by the man in his lap as he hesitates close to him.

Jeno simply rests his head on Jaemin’s shoulder, watching him writing and making accounts on paper, too tired to help or understand what he’s doing. He really feels young and carefree, responsibilities pushed away for a moment, kissing Jaemin’s skin slightly rough at his jaw where it needs to be shaved. His own hands in his lap, trying his best not to be a real distraction.

Jaemin cups his cheek and kisses him for a long moment, loud wet snap as he pulls away. Jeno has so much to do, and should head home to at least change before dropping by Sicheng’s desk, yet Jaemin is warm and he wants to stay with bare legs tangled with him, under the same silky bathrobe he saw him in more than a week ago.

Jeno reaches for a pack of cigarettes casually laying on the desk, taking one to light up under Jaemin’s curious shifts of eyes from his documents. One hand holding the ashtray, another dragging his lips for white smoke to come out his lips. Jaemin kisses his cheek as Jeno shrugs ashes, holding it for him to inhale, kissing his fingers as he does so.

“I didn’t know you smoke”.

“Sometimes I do”. 

“I guess there’s a lot I still need to learn about you”. Jaemin’s voice is playful, but Jeno can catch the genuine confession. True, they had lovely talks and Jeno has learned what he needed to deem the man holding him a good person, albeit they have a lot to uncover. It’s not necessarily bad, and time is not running, except today’s hours flying and calling duty he’d gladly avoid.

“We have all the time”. He answers, thumb tracing under Jaemin’s tired eyes.

“We do. You’re not running away from me again, right?”.

“I’m sorry, it’s still a bit hard for me, I’m not used to this”. 

Jaemin shakes his head, a soft smile and abandons his work, holding Jeno properly.

“What I mean is, I’m here for you. In any way you want me. A friend, hopefully a lover”. 

Jeno smiles, can’t help another kiss, lips mapping languidly Jaemin’s. It feels unreal, finding someone he’s so lost in that wants him back. Precious soul hidden in the walls of a Manhattan’s club.

“That we can. A lover, I mean. I’d like to be your lover”.

And Jeno is just there, living the moment, Jaemin’s perfume the only thing making him feel as good as he does, getting home earlier with a fluttery heart and clothes soaked with it. 

Yves has just gotten home, still in the process of removing her coat, eyes narrowing under black mascara and sly glances down Jeno’s littered neck.

“Did you?”.

“Yes”. Jeno stops her― laughing smile when Yves gasps, holding his hand and almost throwing Jeno to sit on the couch, her legs up immediately under her chin and Jeno grimaces at her shoes touching the fabric. 

Details left alone, Jeno comes back to the day he visited Jaemin and Seulgi, how they kissed in the ballroom and despite his sister already having an idea of what was happening in Jeno’s head she’s very familiar with, her reactions are priceless. She also hits Jeno with a cushion, nagging because he should have come to her and talked. They both know it is hard for him when it comes to his own emotions, always ready to help others, never ready to help himself out of a clouded mind.

And Jeno in the safety of his own home― being Yves and their apartment, maybe he shares a few candid words about Jaemin, how gentle he is with him and their little suggestion about being possible lovers.

“I really like him”. Jeno concludes fumbling with his fingers “Everything just feels right”.

Yves tucks some locks behind Jeno’s ear, cupping his cheek, her palms scented with hand cream. Hands of a woman Jeno adores, digits rough with her sewing work and sweet with their warmth. Jeno never had a mother to grow up with, and Yves not even being his biological sister covers the most important figures Jeno always lacked in his life. He’s sure it’s the same for her. Their childhood was not the best, leaving space for loneliness and uncertainty. They were able to find their own place in this world, stepping into the light always anchored at the other.

“You look happy, Jen. Please never stop smiling”. 

Jeno is relieved to find out nothing really changes in the next few days. He still goes to work, Jaemin is busier and they rarely meet for a couple of minutes outside Taeil’s building. They do make sure to join Midnight Dancing and Johnny at Dream, being of support for Yves and also have a talk around with their friends.

Mark tonight swings by the counter, injured wrist he has to keep steady for at least two weeks, pouting and brooding. He’s also on medicines and being completely sober in addition hurts the man. He’s quite funny sipping cola from a straw, drink getting watery with the extra amount of ice cubes he always asks for. 

Another night on the calmer side, Johnny with his sleeves up and momentarily resting his elbows on the counter, listening to Mark’s idea of doing an open mic session where they can play songs for patrons, inspired by the fun show Seulgi and Jaemin put up with. Johnny says not everyone is them, and it could lead to a disastrous out of tune show if they really let anyone sing, casual gigs belonging more to other bars. He still suggests Mark to try and ask Taeyong when he stops by.

Jeno gets distracted, waiting for someone. His eyes shift to the door from time to time, sipping at his own martini glass. He met Jaemin a bunch of days ago, only spoke on the phone when the man apologized for not being able to meet up; it’s fine, he knows they can’t be together all the time, even if once they were at a good point with their feelings, days have gotten busier. 

So he entertains himself, looks at the band playing lounge music and warming up, eavesdropping on some businessmen talking transactions. Fascinating, but he doesn’t care. He looks up to Johnny at one point, smiling wily and he’s about to raise an eyebrow but then he knows what that smile is all about. Hands around his stomach, delicate peck at his nape.

“The usual?”.

“Virgin drink”. Jaemin answers the bartender and sits at a bar stool, legs crossed. “I have driving plans tonight”.

“Got a beloved one to drive around?”.

Jaemin scoffs gently, pinky linking Jeno’s fingers of his hand on the counter. “Yes I do”.

Mark turns as he makes a confused dumb sound, startled by the news. Johnny seems more pleased than anything, mumbling how it is unfair to not make a toast. That’s when Mark actually widens his eyes, hand patting Jeno’s back. “Wow, are you serious here?”.

Jeno nods, Jaemin confident but there’s pink dusting his cheeks speaking more than anything else. A true real treat to watch Jaemin’s face fall flustered, for anyone else and also for Jeno.

“I still can sing, we need a song”. Mark gets up and nears the stage, Donghyuck playing the drums sending him a glare and a small mention of his head clearly asking what is the man doing. And then Mark also slips on the shiny wooden floor, picked up by a scared Seulgi with a stern stare bringing the excited one back to the stool.

“Jesus, keep an eye on him”. She tells Jaemin between her clenched jaw, hand gesturing to a wincing Mark. 

They get a table and leave Johnny with Jaehyun Jung chatting him up at the counter, turning out to be the same man Jeno saw at Taeil’s office. He’s apparently briefly swinging by only to have Moon’s legal studio help him, and the man seems particularly fond of the bartender, all dimpled smiles and laughs.

Johnny always says Jeno he’s “Your eyes, trophy boys and trophy wives”, and it’s not so far from the truth. He gets to hear every possible story about their patrons, knows everything before Jeno can about their friends, never is truly surprised about things unfolding and secrets disclosed through time. Jeno doesn’t know much about Johnny, except for some heavy teasing about one skirt usually passing by on weekends where the counter is busier. 

And Doyoung, oh Jaemin always likes to mention their fling, how can he forget.

Jeno doesn’t really have a flair for gossip, discovering things only when they are in front of him and clear. He’s watching over the bartender and the attractive man when Jaemin’s lips press at the shell of his ear from his red coated chair.

“Ex boyfriends, if you were wondering”.

Jeno turns, smile and eyes drooping to the man’s lips, licking his own. “How do you know everything?”.

“I don’t. I just happened to witness their story, they were adorable together”. Jaemin holds his hand under the table, pressing close but no one can hear them with the music and club’s chatter. “Johnny looks all witty and tall but he’s a soft one”.

Jeno hums, eyes flickering back to the stage. They seem to be on good terms, and aware of the circumstances he feels wrong to look at them.

“What about Doyoung?”.

“Not sure how serious they are”. Jaemin sounds sincere, raising his shoulders up a bit. “I’m sure he knows better to not be jealous, it’s Jaehyun afterall”. 

First love, one ended for distance difficulties only, Jeno understands. He never had it yet, although Jaemin’s dazzling smile and the clasped of their hands starts to sound awfully similar to it. He really wants to kiss him, but Yves' performance is starting soon and he doesn’t want to miss a minute of it. 

Jeno smiles when his sister comes out in a light blue dress, looks at Doyoung who nods and starts her solo to Nat King Cole’s Smile. A song they’ve been listening to for long together, as a reminder whenever they were sad and moody, singing it together since their middle school days. Their very own cheer up song, all fond memories dissolving into Yves’ light steps, happiness on a stage, love for dance in the stretch of her arms. She said she thought of Jeno building up the choreography.

He’s glad she’s getting recognition, some patrons coming specifically to see her, a girl covered in the dress Seulgi’s line had sewed for her. It moves comely with her spins, and Doyoung’s beautiful voice makes Jeno breathe into peace, squeezing Jaemin’s hand. His lover’s head falls into Jeno’s shoulder, pressing there until the song ends.

“Still planning to drive me to yours?”. 

Jaemin takes Jeno home, driving with one hand resting at his leg and eyes focused on the road. Jeno tries to keep touches for himself, being sober doesn’t help in any way the longing to have the man closer. He wants Jaemin to catch him like a cold.

And in the safety of Jaemin’s very own parking lot, Jeno is free to kiss Jaemin, body stretched to reach him. They almost trip on the way to his bedroom, drunk with nothing having to do with alcohol, giggling mouths looking in the darkness.

Once Jeno’s back hits the mattress, the drag of his tongue is languid, and there’s eyes closed for too long and arms too heavy on Jaemin’s waist hovering him to look reactive and up to take off his clothes. Jaemin chuckles, one leg of Jeno circling around him, nose dipping in his neck. He shifts him to the side, and Jeno’s body clings to him, breathing quietly.

“I need to have a talk with Mr. Moon, what is he doing to you?”.

All Jaemin gets in reply is a tired whine; next thing Jeno knows is Jaemin taking his clothes off, just to cover him with a blanket and hug him to sleep, deeming him too tired to do anything else. Jeno’s cheeks warm up with the comfortable haze, mouth falling open and probably there’s some drooling on Jaemin’s shirt, yet he keeps scratching his scalp, thumb pressing the curve of his waist.

As they already promised each other, they have time. 

Days pick up a faster pace, and soon it feels impossible to follow all the novelty. Yves gets noticed by a Broadway choreographer that grazed Dream club on a casual night, impressed by her stage presence and beautiful dancing. The Broadway man doesn’t lose the chance to ask her to join musical castings, leaving a business card in her trembling hands.

Jeno’s more often than said at Jaemin’s house, and he thinks their honeymoon phase is really not about to fade. There’s not a day where hands can stay in their own laps, lost count of kisses and marks staining Jeno’s body almost indecently. He tries to hide them in a tie and good suit, but Taeil knows better― and is aware they are Jaemin's. Jeno is glad for him not really saying anything.

There’s morning newspapers and coffee steam waking up Jeno’s tired limbs, next to Yves packing daily for a small apartment she was asked to move in, preparing for her first musical production after passing the castings. Jeno is proud, although he needs to start making some math and realize if he can afford living in the same apartment with his paycheck alone. The space is small for two, still too wide for one person, and maybe he needs to look up for other options.

Jeno of course complains to everyone about not being able to find a good apartment replacement, and all their friends are nice enough to give him support in case he’ll struggle for a while once the last rental is going to come and Jeno will have to move. Even his boss tells him he can boost up his paycheck and help him, but Jeno has plans, those not being spending the money he’s been saving diligently to pay for an apartment that’s not even that great without his sister.

He doesn’t say anything directly to Yves, albeit she can sense his worry and Jeno hates to see her sorry eyes in place whenever the ‘apartment talk’ takes place or he catches her closing cardboard boxes. He reminds her this is her dream, and he’s proud; and Jeno really is, can’t wait to see her performing on dignified stages for her talent and passion. 

It becomes barstool talk, and Jaemin takes part of it one night at Dream, not after Doyoung, Chenle and Donghyuck gathered up on the same microphone singing like they’re the Andrews Sisters an acapella version of ‘Oh Johnny, Oh Johnny, Oh!’. They bloom some good laughs from the― birthday boy bartender, and Jeno narrows his eyes in embarrassment at the way Donghyuck and Chenle particularly shake their hips confidently and snap fingers to their flawlessly harmonized voices. 

Doyoung points at Johnny at some point, singing lyrics between the two men. 

“You make my sad heart jump with joy  
And when you’re near I just can’t sit still a minute

I’m so, Oh Johnny, Oh Johnny, oh!”

There’s a stage light pointed at Johnny, and Jeno hides from it hitting Jaemin’s chest and covers his mouth in a laugh. Even Mark still pouting over his injury, that is actually worse to recover from than what he thought, gives them his usual mad giggling. He startles Seulgi turning to Jeno with a crazed expression as people are suddenly flying from the lounge room’s chandelier.

It’s two days after Yves has officially moved out, still close so Jeno has nothing but drive a little more than twenty minutes to visit her in between rehearsals, although his house is too silent and Jaemin’s body warmth and talks creating their own little world is too nice and tempting. Jeno already has an extra toothbrush in Jaemin’s bathroom, suits for work to grab in the morning and they’re a little unnecessary when Jaemin loves to style Jeno up with his own clothes between a whole new wardrobe made of Jaemin's gifts, shoes at the end of his bed to slip in when waking up in his bed.

Jeno is stretched open on the ballroom’s loveseat, moan muffled in Jaemin’s neck, legs trembling with some good thrusts right where he needs them the most, pushing Jaemin’s messy locks away from his forehead, meeting the same sultry gaze as his. 

“So you’re home alone now?”. Jaemin pants, sitting up and taking Jeno’s hips to let him bounce up his cock. He knows that’s how Jeno likes it the most, curling Jaemin’s hair in his fingers and lifting up his steady thighs and back down inside the filling length. They’re sweating, and the early evening sun hits their overworked skin.

“Yeah”. Moans Jeno, not sure if he’s answering Jaemin or only reacting positively to his close high. “Still need to find-”. Jaemin licks his throat, head thrown back and a guttural sound. “Fuck. Yeah Jaem, this is good”.

He thinks Jaemin has even forgotten what he was about to say, busy kissing Jeno. They got in the room with the intention to play some music and maybe dance, but Jeno during a slow dance without music decided to slip a hand down his man’s trousers, and things escalated quickly.

Jeno moves every day more boldly around Jaemin, and he slightly enjoys seeing Jaemin taken aback by it, and having a whole lot of fun with it as they go.

“Would you like to move here?”. Jaemin is stroking him and he’s not sure he’s twitching for it or for the sudden question. His hands squeeze Jaemin’s shoulders, body sinked inside him and eyes wide.

Jaemin clears his throat, playing with Jeno’s ear, chests heavy and moving erratically. “There’s a lot of space here, and if you think it’s too soon take it as a short holiday with me until you’ll find a new apartment”.

Jeno suddenly wonders if that’s why Jaemin, the day Yves moved, sang prettily with his low voice some lyrics of Tony Bennet. Tea for two, and Jaemin probably meant it in a literal sense. He strokes their noses together, pecking Jaemin’s chin.

“I’d have to move some stuff in here, I don’t want to bother Seulgi”.

There’s a small snicker from Jaemin, and Jeno hopes he doesn’t look as enamoured as Jaemin does right now. That sweeping gaze making his heart twirl, fingers mapping circles and soothing everything they can. No ounce of shame being exposed under their eyes and sunlight, it’s just them. And Jeno likes the prospect of them being unapologetically, well, them.

“Please, we have so much space to fill, she wouldn't even notice; plus, she adores you”. Jaemin tilts his head, licking his lips. “I love you”. Jeno nods, and hugs Jaemin, inhaling the space of skin soaked in perfume and sweat.

“Is it a yes?”. Jaemin moves his head so he can find his gaze, and they’re being extremely corny for two men caught in morning sex. It feels lighter, better than ever, allowing time to just stop and laugh, or kiss until their lips get numb.

“You make it sound like a marriage proposal”. Jeno plays, lips crushing to Jaemin’s skin again. “It’s a yes. Remember you asked for it when you’ll get tired of me”.

Jaemin gasps, playfully offended, moving Jeno back to the couch. “Never, Jeno. And unfortunately a marriage is the only thing I can’t give you, I’m afraid”.

Jeno frowns, despite their smiles it is one true reality that will hurt somewhere between projects and a future, if they’re going to spend it well together and for long. He kisses Jaemin, pulling him down to his chest, keeping love at the tip of his tongue. They can find peace, and tenderness, without a piece of paper. And does it really matter, when all Jeno needs is the security of one smile and safe arms around him to know it will be okay?

“By the way”. He says when he pulls out, rocking his hips to move their stillness and it does send a sparkle at the pit of his stomach, added the anticipation of his next words. “I love you Jaemin”.

As they kiss and get lost in their own pleasured bodies, Jeno hears echoing the lyrics of Tea for Two, and Tony Bennet’s low voice.

“I'm discontented with homes that are rented so I have invented my own.  
Darling this place is a lover's oasis where life's weary chase is unknown.

Far from the cry of the city, where flowers pretty caress the streams,  
Cozy to hide in, to love side-by-side in. Don't let it abide in my dreams”.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reaching the end of this story!
> 
> i decided to write this to celebrate some of my favorite songs from the 40s to the 60s, and of course jeno and jaemin are the perfect fit for the story. 
> 
> i'm also here [twitter](https://twitter.com/jen26do) ; [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/ir02ne)


End file.
